One of the more interesting, and certainly less considered, aspects of the “human enhancement” debate is the significance of traditional human values, such as discipline, motivation, ambition, work ethic, in a world wherein we have something approaching near-complete mastery over our condition. In other words, is a world where we don’t have to endure struggle, suffering, hardship in order to accomplish, a world we should care to inhabit?
Life is Dukkha (suffering/unsatisfactoriness), the Buddha once said. It is, he believed, our default condition. Anyone who has lived long enough should be capable of attesting to the Buddha’s insight. Our lives, it’s true, tend to be characterised by a gnawing sense of discontent, dissatisfaction, disappointment. Fortunately, this condition is occasionally punctuated by moments of complete contentment, bliss, euphoria, wholeness. But for the most part, we tend to lean into the next moment, craving something other than whatever it is we’re experiencing in the present. Interestingly, however, in the grand scheme of our lives — at least when they’re considered retrospectively — we tend to view our suffering/Dukkha, not in morbid or negative terms, but as the source of immense meaning in our lives. Our struggle, it seems, is utterly inseparable from our success; our pain intimately connected to our pleasure.
Even if you’re not inclined towards a yin-yang metaphysic (good is bad and bad is good etc.), it’s clear that whatever suffering is, it’s not wholly bad. Just think, what satisfaction would there be in succeeding without some amount of suffering? What’s the point of striving, in other words, if there isn’t great odds to be overcome? Indeed, without great odds to be overcome, there can be no striving. For without striving, there is only success (or failure). And where’s the fun, not to mention meaning, in that?
In fact, it’s this existential condition of Dukkha that, perhaps above everything, binds us as human beings. It’s our shared trauma, the battle scars of our humanity, that’s the ultimate source of our solidarity. Well, trauma and love — but mostly trauma. On this view, suffering is an inexorable part of our human identity, the pain and torment we experience an integral component of the human struggle. More than that, though, not only is suffering inexorable from our identity, it’s of fundamental moral significance. For perhaps it’s in our grappling with suffering that we ultimately discover who we are, in our vulnerability that we learn character, in our contending with the shadow-world that we find meaning, strength, and value. Without suffering there would be no hero’s journey to embark on, for there would be no adversary to defeat, no great battle that infuses our lives with purposeful drama. A hero needs an adversary, after all. Without an adversary, he/she/they/it is just plain regular. So although a life would be less painful without suffering, perhaps it would also be less worth living.
This raises the concern that, were we to engineer suffering out of the human system, would we not have lost one of our most valuable features? Of course, this concern is closely related to authenticity. More specifically, however, it has to do with the metaphysics of suffering. As such, it deserves its own treatment.
Since it was the Buddha who said life is Dukkha, it only makes sense to examine what he thought we should do about it. Although he recognised that Dukkha was a characteristic feature of human life, the Buddha really wasn’t about that Dukkha life. In fact, the whole Enlightenment program he championed was designed specifically to help us transcend this supposedly sad state of affairs. Life is Dukkha, he reckoned, only when we are ignorant, when we fail to see things clearly for what they are. Through practice, namely meditation, we could learn to clarify our perception of things and therefore learn to live above Dukkha, in the peace/tranquility/freedom of true awareness — Nirvana.
While it’s easy to wax romantic about the existential value of suffering, it’s important not to take it too far. Without doubt, suffering often is a source of immense value in our lives. It’s through the window of Dukkha that so many discover the Dharma, after all. That said, it seems clear that the vast majority of our suffering — the more mundane, moment-to-moment variety defined by unsatisfactoriness, anxiety, displeasure etc. — is absolutely meaningless, serving no ultimate or larger purpose. On our deathbeds, it’s hard to imagine ourselves reflecting on how meaningful our incessant, gnawing social anxiety was, or the cosmic significance of our never truly liking ourselves, of the self-loathing that plagues so much of our experience.
Clearly, there’s good and bad suffering. Suffering that’s ultimately valuable, that leads to our betterment, and suffering that’s just plain ol’ suffering and nothing more. Suffering is not a Good in itself, in other words. It’s only good when it affects a certain kind of response. And so it is that we should embrace the good kind, and do all we can do avoid the bad kind, to expunge as much pointless suffering from our lives as possible.
Now what about difficulty? Although closely related, difficulty and suffering are not the same thing. Difficulty can of course be a form of suffering. Take the difficulty often inherent in juggling the affairs of life. Kids, work, attempting to maintain some semblance of a social life etc. Difficulty can also be the source of great satisfaction, not only retrospectively but in the moment, too. Solving a tricky puzzle or attempting a particular gymnastic feat, whatever. There can be both pleasure and pain in difficulty, depending on the framing. Both can be valuable, of course. Difficulty that bears suffering can be good, if it breeds resiliency/grit/discipline or other traits that come in handy down the line. It can also provide satisfaction retrospectively, when we reflect on the challenges of our lives and they provide us with some sense of accomplishment and meaning. Like certain kinds of suffering, though, certain kinds of difficulty contain no value whatsoever. As with certain kinds of difficulty as with bad sex, it’s hard to find any consolation for it. Conversely, difficulty that confers in-the-moment pleasure is of course free from suffering entirely. Though the task at hand might be inherently difficult, the phenomenology of the task is one of satisfaction, pleasure, happiness etc. Obviously, we should keep this kind of difficulty in our lives.
In a perfect world, we would develop the capacity to eliminate all unnecessary/meaningless suffering and difficulty from our lives. To do so would be an enhancement. This is an easy enough call to make. All suffering/difficulty that is unequivocally Bad we should remove from the human equation. All that is Good we should keep. Simple. Where it gets trickier, however, is in evaluating whether or not we should eliminate suffering/difficulty even if we could not do so discriminately. Provided the chance, should we eliminate all suffering and difficulty so as to secure all the well-being that would fill its place? Or, should we prefer our lives as they currently are, that is, a sloppy mix of the two?
There are two thought experiments that help illuminate the dilemma here. The first is a device that confers total Enlightenment upon whoever uses it. The second, a neural implant that enables us to download knowledge/skills instantaneously, without effort.
Thought experiment #1: “$99 Enlightenment”
Imagine that, for the modest sum of $99, you could purchase a wearable device (a special sort of hat) that configured your brain in such a way that you were “fully Enlightened” so long as you were wearing it. No longer would you have to muster the motivation for meditation, struggle away on the cushion for hours, pour over the pages of dharma books or abstain from sense pleasures. For $99, you could transcend the psychosis of ordinary awareness, along with all its attendant suffering. Sounds like a good deal, no? But would you take it? Should you take it? Even though Enlightenment for double digit dollars is, on the surface, a ripper deal — it’s not clear that we ought to go for it. At least intuitively, Enlightenment seems all of a sudden far less valuable if you can buy it. For is it not the sacrifice inherent in the path, the immense discipline one must cultivate in order to walk it, that makes the goal — should we happen to attain it — so tasty? The same goes for every other element of health. Is it as meaningful if it comes for free (or close to)? Or must it be hard fought? Is it the struggle that makes the success, in other words?
No. The struggle is not what makes the success, though it might sometimes be a bonus. To the degree that struggle contributes to the well-being that results from “success”, whether that be in terms of Enlightenment or any other pursuit, it’s a good thing. However, though the struggle may colour the well-being, or contribute to it, it’s not the primary source of well-being nor the source of its value— it’s not what makes the well-being morally significant. Well-being is what we ultimately care about, not what surrounds it, not the means by which we get there — or what we must sacrifice for it. To illustrate this point, imagine two writers whose strongest yearning in life is to become a successful, widely read author. Further, imagine that their circumstances are precisely the same. For all intents and purposes, their journeys are the same, paved with the same set of challenges etc. In the end, they both achieve their aim, whereafter they both realise immense well-being as a result. However, where one of them suffered throughout the process — found the writing a great hardship, the promotion insufferable etc. — where the other found the whole deal a great delight. Would we opt for the former purely because of the juxtaposition between the experience of the struggle and that of the success? No. We would be crazy to. For on net, if we assume their well-being was the same following their success, the one who “enjoyed the journey” would have led a more “valuable” life.
As for the Enlightenment deal, specifically, it’s much the same. What makes Enlightenment valuable is the well-being that’s inherent in it, the states of mind that it confers upon the “Enlightened”, as well as the ripple-effect that Enlightened individuals tend to have on the world. That the attainment of Enlightenment — to the degree that such a state of finality exists — tends to involve countless hours of practice and immense sacrifice is, for the most part, entirely arbitrary, a product of the vagaries of history. The time, effort, struggle, and discipline that are ordinarily required to produce Enlightenment are not essential qualities of Enlightenment, necessary pre-conditions. In fact, they (their absence) are generally the greatest impediments to Enlightenment. That Enlightenment should require so much of us precludes so many from ever tasting the rainbow. And that’s a great shame. If we could do something about that, we should.
As fun as the idea is, one needs not posit the existence of magical technologies, such as the Enlightenment device, in order to challenge our assumptions about the role of effort/discipline along the Path. Indeed, real/non-hypothetical technologies will also do the trick. Think about meditation apps. Their explicit aim is to make meditation “easier”. By serving as a mindfulness alarm, meditation apps can help maximise the time we are spending “actually meditating” and less time simply lost in thought. In some sense, this makes one’s meditation more efficient, and in a sense, easier. Where meditation apps can have a much more leveraged impact, however, is in pointing out certain instructions or insights that could have profound and disproportionate effects on the meditator. It’s therefore entirely possible that a quality meditation app could greatly reduce the time it takes one to reach Enlightenment. Does this make it Bad? Should we prefer the path where we struggle blindly on our own? Of course not. All of these technologies that serve our practice exist on a continuum, with the original Enlightenment technology (the Guru) on one end, and the $99 Enlightenment on the other. There is no point along the continuum at which helpful becomes a hinderance, Good becomes Bad. We want Enlightenment as efficiently and painlessly as we can get it.
It’s also worth noting that — apparently — some of the greatest sages/gurus throughout history did not endure any suffering whatsoever in order to realise Enlightenment. Instead, they pretty much woke up like that. It’s as if, entirely out of the blue, they were struck with the bolt of Enlightenment. Such individuals have inspired enormous followings and — apparently — affected great change in the lives of others. Interestingly, we don’t devalue such people’s experience or suggest it’s meaningless because they didn’t work for their fruits. On the contrary, we praise them as supranormal beings — special — and flock to them.
Thought experiment #2: “Learnomade”
Imagine a neural implant (a chip inside your brain) that allowed you to download any knowledge/skill for the price of an iPhone app. We’ll call it the “Learnomade” (like lemonade but with learn LOL). Want to speak fluent French? A couple of clicks and you’re good to go. Keen to master the karma sutra? Not a problem — 99 cents and you’ll be pretzeling like a pro in no time. Surf like Kelly Slater? Easy. With the Learnomade at your aid (eh?!), no longer would you have to slave away for years in order to acquire knowledge or master a skill. At last, the world would be your oyster, your wildest dreams realised — and all in an instant.
Yay or nay? Would such a technology be a) the very best thing to happen to the world, or b) the worst thing since COVID-19?
On one hand, what a gift it would be. Not only would the horizon of our possible experiences expand almost infinitely, civilisation in the large would be utterly transformed. The intellectual/temporal band-width constraints that have so long capped our potential would be no more. Technologies hitherto unimaginable would be discovered, enabling us to solve the technical challenges of our time. Presumably, our lives would be made all the richer by our newfound capabilities and the vast reams of knowledge we would have, not only at our fingertips, but literally inside our skulls. Moreover, it stands to reason that such a technology could — and more than likely would — improve our humanity, at least in certain ways. After all, wisdom — that most elusive human thing — is a certain kind of knowledge, one that — with the Learnomade — we could readily download like any other. To the degree that wisdom improves lives, this would be of immense benefit. And talk about equal opportunity! Such a technology would, at least in principle, be the ultimate equaliser. At last, the meritocratic ideal — hitherto only a mirage — would be realised.
On the flip-side, what’s the point of things in a world where any-one can do any-thing? All of the fear, excitement, anticipation, struggle, satisfaction — in a word, humanity — that surrounds the learning process would be extinguished. In its place would be left only the intrinsic qualities of any given activity. Speaking French would still feel like speaking French, at least on some level, but it would not contain the additional richness of humanity that is imbued in the act by learning it by ordinary — that is, non-magical — means.
As awesome as such a superpower would be, the concern — in a nutshell — is that we would in exchange be trading something far more valuable — our humanity. This intuition/argument represents a large class of concern re the ethics of human enhancement. That is, that certain kinds of enhancement would be “de-humanizing” and therefore Bad. De-humanizing arguments are interesting, for they rest on a particular conception of human nature along with the view that What We Are is What We Ought to Be/remain. Broadly speaking, the idea is that we are creatures that love, hate, struggle, suffer, laugh, fight, forgive — i.e. do all the human things — and we should keep things that way. To intervene on ourselves to the point that we fundamentally alter our nature would, it goes, be highly unethical — on the basis of our “human nature” being something that’s a Good in and of itself.
Such arguments are not new. Something of the sort apparently drove the Celtic warriors to eschew body amor (and even clothing) in battle because they believed that it diminished the glory of a true victory. Armor, it was believed, somehow stifled the humanity of the experience of war. More modern examples also abound. For instance, some authors have argued that computer keyboards corrupt the humanity writing process, driving a wedge between our humanness and the page. Such examples are generally provided in order to demonstrate how ridiculous de-humanizing concerns are in practice. “See, all the fears of how technology would violate our essential humanness, throughout history, have been mostly unfounded”. The kind of character traits we cherish and admire in ourselves are very rarely smothered by new — and at first, seemingly magical — technologies, they simply reveal themselves in new ways, in new struggles.
Perhaps the same would go for the Learnomade. While the struggle and satisfaction involved in the learning process will have been done with, maybe there would be a whole new frontier of struggle and satisfaction — suffering and well-being — that the Learnomade opens up. Perhaps, in a post-learning world, the primary human endeavour would no longer be the acquisition of skills/traits/knowledge, but instead the creation of entirely new kinds. Having mastered the known, perhaps we would set our sights solely on the unknown. The struggle and satisfaction that was once part-and-parcel of the learning process would, perhaps, find itself replaced by the struggle and satisfaction inherent in the process of creation.
So maybe the Learnomade would be continuous with the history of technological things that change the way we do things. Like the rest of things, the Learnomade would change things, but not our nature. It would not de-humanize us, so much as re-humanize us; that is, redefine what it is to do and be and suffer and prosper as a human being. We would still suffer, don’t worry, just differently. #sufferdifferent.
But then again, perhaps not. Perhaps the advent of the Learnomade would represent a fundamental departure from the history of technological progress, an invention so radically powerful that it doesn’t compare to anything that preceded it. Maybe the computer keyboard isn’t a fair analogy for the Learnomade, then, for where the former merely amplifies or augments our nature, the latter makes of it something completely Other. Perhaps. If history tells us anything, however, it’s that our technological fears are very rarely justified. What we identify as cause for concern hardly ever proves to be genuinely problematic. Rather it’s what we don’t identify that bites us in the ass. That’s not to say that technology is never a threat to the quality of our humanity, and thus never worth worrying about. It’s rather to point out that we can only so scarcely grasp, in advance, the ways in which technologies will affect us. We can speculate, but the future is unknown, the world weird, God too funny — and so she laughs at our prophesies.
Maybe… who knows.
